To Make a Lamb
by Yxonomei
Summary: [RikuSora, highly disturbing content, dark themes, castration] Riku will make Sora pure.


**Warnings**: Pre-slash/Shounen ai, AU, angst, dark themes, violence, _highly_ disturbing content, castration

**Pairings**: one-sided Riku/Sora, implied Kairi/Sora

**Rating**: R

**Disclaimer**: Owned by Squaresoft, Disney, et al.

**Summary**: Riku will make Sora pure.

A/N: Be forewarned—this is a peculiar child of a peculiar brain. Whether the reader may find anything worthy of approbation, the author cannot say—except that she hopes the reader will show enough human respect and dignity to refrain from sacrificing her upon the alter of the reader's indignation. Thank you most kindly for your time and for, if you may be so inclined, a memento of your visit in the form of a review. The author is, as always, the humble and pitiable servant of your entertainment.

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:To Make a Lamb:

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_Little lamb, dost thou know who made thee?_

She should not have touched him. He should not have responded. Simple formula. The equation balances. However, she did and he did—and now we all are here. I must balance it alone.

I know her game. Oh yes, I know. She is trying to ruin him, make him dirty and weak, make him like her. A wolf in sheep's clothing? The Red Woman riding the back of the syphilitic Beast is more like it.

I will not allow this.

He is too good for her, for everyone—even for me. He is our light. He is our goodness. He is our heart. No one must touch him or sully him. I will take his weakness from him and I will make him pure.

Because I love him, I can do this. I am the only who can.

He understands this now. I can see it in his eyes. He fought at first, her cloying lies slowly poisoning him, but I have bled her from his veins and replaced her dirt with my shining truth. He is perfect—almost. Trussed up and on his knees in our cave, he is ready to be made so.

Gently I wipe away the tears, snot and dirt from his flushed face and run a finger beneath the edge of the gag to test its tightness. He is quiet now, no longer screaming around the wadded up strip of his shirt and the length of mine that keeps it in place. Acceptance.

"This is how much I love you."

_He who made the lion and the wolf made thee_

The snap of sterile latex elicits no reaction from him. Already I can feel the sweat in the creases of my palms sticking to the elastic material, turning it yellow. The acrid, chemical odor of the gloves clings to my nose and spills down the back of my tongue. Cleanliness is akin to goodliness.

I will not balk now. I will save him.

_Who made the tyger in the bower?_

He finally makes a sound—small, choked, helpless—when I carefully apply the ice to his nearly hairless scrotum. It wrinkles as the skin contracts away from the cold. He wiggles in his bonds, legs jerking against the spreader bars at ankle and thigh, arms straining against the ropes that lock them behind his back, and whines desperately. His thin hips buck away, but my grip is sure and relentless. The melted water drips between my gloved fingers, spattering the cave floor like tears. Then the rigid lines of his muscles ease and he slumps in defeat again. This is for his own good; he knows this in his heart.

The chill remains deep in my flesh even after I set the ice aside. It spreads, eating its way up my arm, into my shoulder, and sends out algid tendrils to freeze my lungs, to still my heart. Ah!

When it gently envelops that laboring, crimson organ—slowing, slowing, slowing it down—the last doubt, that tiny voice shrieking in the back of my mind, falls into a dead silence. Peace.

The worlds have accepted my holy mission.

_He who made thee gave tooth to clip and fang to rend_

The knife gleams. The flesh resists, but the flesh is weak. It bends, it yields, and then it parts before the blade's mercy.

redredredredred

He is screaming again, twisting and thrashing. This is the sacrifice.

"This is my love."

His pain is my pain. My love is his.

My fingers are slick and warm, but strong and sure. I hold the center of his impurity and I cleave it from his trembling, sweat-soaked body.

The cessation of sound heralds his unconsciousness. In one hand I grip the bloodied scalpel and in the other the severed lump of meat.

redredredredred

This is our exorcism. Our cleansing.

_Gave hoof to beat and nail to tear_

I cast this stamp of his weakness into the wine-dark sea. Back to the womb of amniotic corruption, where our grandfathers mated with demons and cursed us all.

Within that voiceless current I have already disposed of the Red Woman. I have cut out her soiled ripeness, her vile womanhood, and sent it back to where it belongs. Only within the bowels of fish will her filth mingle with his weakness.

He is free now.

He is pure.

Amen.

_All are His, be praised!_

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End

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A/N2: The italicized lines between scenes are from an anonymous source, but hints of Blake and Pope are apparent within its theme. 

After Note:

The Riku of this story is an untrustworthy narrator. His account of the events that have transpired should not be taken at face value. It is doubtful Sora went quietly.

Yet again this author must express her profound gratitude to all those exquisite individuals who have taken the time to leave her a kind word: "Goblin Market" – **yamisukui**,**SuperCatnip**; "Prince of a Flower Crown" – **morgenlust**, **SuperCatnip**; "Lollipop Baby Boy - 2" – **serenity denied**, **AngelicOrgueil**, **SilentSniper**, **Aseret Kitsune**, **akuma-river**, **StormDarkblade**, **Sekre**, **Kyrene once Blood Roses**, **TOKYOPOPer**, **husShh**, **yamisukui**, **Echo the Insane**; "Heads" – **serenity denied**, **Sekre**, **xxhieadzeroxx**, **alchemy dream**, **Kyrene once Blood Roses**, **SilentSniper**, **Aseret Kitsune**, **hostesshearts 3**, **akuma-river**, **SuperCatnip**, **morgenlust**, **husShh**, **yamisukui**, **Echo the Insane**, **toasty fresh**. Truly, this author is blessed to have been allowed the privilege of writing for you all. Than you.

Furthermore, this author would be honored to offer her most enduring reviewers (**Sekre**,**yamisukui**,**serenity denied**, **Kyrene once Blood Roses**, and **SilentSniper**) an opportunity to request a fic scenario, if they feel so inclined. The only restrictions are that it be slash/yaoi/boylove and Sora is the bottom/submissive/receiver/uke. Any male character/Sora pairing is acceptable—even something bizarre like Simba/Sora. Thank you for your continued support. This author is grateful beyond language to be your servant.

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End file.
